


First Pride

by TawnyOwl95



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24506968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyOwl95/pseuds/TawnyOwl95
Summary: Their first Pride festival in Soho after Armageddon.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50
Collections: Pride Wives 2020





	First Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Writing for the Pride Wives event on Tumblr  
> https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/ineffable-wives-central

When you’re immortal time moves differently. Only since Armageddon failed has Crowley been sensitive to its passage. She doesn’t rush forward quite as much, likes to linger in the seasons before leaping towards the next one. Today, the many-coloured rainbow flags in the Soho shopfronts resonate more. She’s aware of Pride and what it means, she’s just never had anyone to go with before. And Hell has taught her that you are never as lonely as you are in a crowd.

The bookshop always has a Pride flag too. Aziraphale’s concession to keeping up appearances providing that it doesn’t inconvenience her in any way. Today though the bookshop is open, and the angel is bustling through the door backwards with garden chairs under one arm and a parasol under the other.”

“Be a dear.” Aziraphale smiles.

Crowley takes the proffered jug of strawberry daiquiri. There’s not just a flag in the bookshop window. There is bunting. There’s glitter. Most of the latter is also on Aziraphale. It makes her eyes impossibly bright. A thousand tiny stars that glow when she beams at Crowley.

That’s how Crowley finds herself sat on a Soho pavement, sipping daiquiris, when the parade starts. No one dares stand in front of them. In fact they’ve acquired quite a crowd perched on fold out chairs and the pavement around them. Aziraphale keeps them all safe with shade and water as the floats roll past.

Crowley fights to keep her mouth shut. When a girl with purple hair hugs Aziraphale and tells her how cool she is, what an inspiration, Crowley can’t contain it. The words boil out of her. “You do know what they think of us, don’t you?”

Aziraphale frowns at her. “Oh?”

“You know-” words are such tricky beasts. Crowley rolls her wrist so her hand does the work for her, indicating Aziraphale then herself and the 6000 year chasm between them. “That we’re…”

Aziraphale’s frown lifts. “Very much in love?”

Crowley swallows. They’re in love? Well, yes they are. Obviously. _Obviously._ They just don’t talk about it. Not with words.

“And what if…?” Crowley flails again, her eyes roll upwards. She’s wearing her glasses, but Aziraphale knows. She always knows.

“Then my dear, I will very much tell them where to go. You could give them directions. Top up?” Aziraphale holds up the daiquiri jug.

Crowley obligingly offers up her glass. She suddenly needs a drink. “Shurrup,” she hisses at the grinning humans sat on the kerb. “Show’s over there.”

The humans wisely turn their painted faces back to the parade. They don’t stop grinning though. Crowley pretends she can’t see them.


End file.
